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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323225">Oh to be a fly on the wall...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragmentaryblue/pseuds/fragmentaryblue'>fragmentaryblue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal characters - Freeform, Christmas gift, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Historical, Humor, Original Character(s), POV fly on the wall, Satire, Victorian, general silliness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:14:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragmentaryblue/pseuds/fragmentaryblue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fly is a respectable, if simple sort of fellow. He can tell you (as his mother told him) that if one is to lead a long, happy life one must keep out of dark corners where mysterious eight-legged strangers may wait to eat you. </p><p>He can also tell you that demure Victorian ladies paint quite a different picture behind closed doors.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Oh to be a fly on the wall...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A Christmas gift to a good friend that I had a blast writing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b> <em>Somewhere sometime in the mid 19th century, a few feet above the ground between two tilting Victorian town houses…</em> </b> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly was a simple sort of fellow. He kept himself to himself, ate his garbage and strived to bother the general populace as much as possible in his free time — like every good fly should. At night, he wiggled his way inside various boudoirs and parlours to sleep in peace and, if he so happened to overhear juicy bits of gossip, well, it was merely a happy coincidence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This evening, he flew out of the rapidly cooling air through a fortuitously cracked drawing room window, and zoomed up towards the ceiling before its two occupants could notice their uninvited guest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Honestly, Clem, I don’t know why I have to put up with this farce mother’s arranged for me.” One of the seated women was saying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t call me that dear, it makes me sound like a venereal disease,” the other replied, scrunching her nose up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ha!” the first woman exclaimed, “And what would you know of venereal diseases? Are you not a paradigm of womanly virtue, Clementine?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you <em>met</em> my brother? He thinks tales from his various boudoir adventures makes for entertaining dinner conversation.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Touché.” The first woman snorted, before collapsing back onto her settee with a dramatic sigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What am I to do, dearest? I’m to meet one of only three eligible suitors this evening — all for just an hour each, and picked out by my <em>mother</em> no less— and after this, I must decide who to shackle myself to <em>for all eternity</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be so dramatic, Ada,” Clementine teased, “it’s for life, yes, but soon enough it will be for weekends and at mealtimes on weekdays only, and then — if you’re truly lucky — it will be only when you bump into each other on leaving your respective wings of his huge country estate. Pluck up, I’ll be sure to visit, <em>often</em> — everything will be back to normal in next to no time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Visit?” Ada exclaimed. “Oh no, you’ll be moving <em>with</em> me, if I have any say at all. I’ll smuggle you in the carriage cases and you can pretend to be my ladies maid.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not <em>multiple</em> suitcases, I hope.” Clementine laughed. “Besides, I am to be married too, you know. I’m not so well off as you so I have even <em>less</em> say in the matter.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ada sighed again. “Gah, men. One day women will be able to marry each other and then they’ll have something to worry about. With no one <em>forced</em> to marry them, I expect they’d soon expire from neglect! They’d have to start marrying each other!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine snorted. “Now there’s an idea! They might even come to realise they are <em>not</em> all they’re cracked up to be in the marriage bed, when confronted with the truth right before their eyes!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both women laughed merrily before lapsing into a companionable silence. Fly regurgitated onto the ceiling, burped, and settled himself in for the night. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But no sooner had each of the room’s occupants relaxed in companionable silence, did they hear a sharp knocking upon the door. The two ladies immediately sat up straight, demurely crossed their ankles and made a grab for the books that lay discarded beside them. When the door opened, each appeared sedately seated perusing their novels, without betraying the slightest hint that anything remotely entertaining was in play, or indeed had ever occurred. (Ever). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly, disturbed from his doze on the ceiling, scuttled backwards till he was safe in the deep shadows. A colossal gentleman with a large walrus moustache that barely disguised his ruddy complexion appeared in the open doorway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good evening, most esteemed ladies.” He said, trotting into the room. He had a strangely light gait for one so large, and appeared to bob over the ground like a round, ungainly boat upon the open sea. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Allow me to introduce myself! Colonel Billingswig of the 44th regiment of Foot, most honoured to make your acquaintance ladies!” He dipped his head slightly, which was as much of a bow as his considerable girth would allow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good evening, Colonel Billigswig. So pleased to meet you. This is my friend, Clementine Baudelaire.” Ada politely replied. She forced a strained smile, taking in the bobbing man before her with the expression of someone regarding something squelchy they’d accidentally trodden in while walking on the beach. She did not appear to notice that the book, which lay forgotten on her lap, was upside down. Fly, however, being upside down did. (A rather interesting story too, actually. Fly peered over her shoulder and started to read all about the misadventures of three young men and a dog on a boating trip, attempting to cook and failing spectacularly).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“May I offer you some refreshments?” Clementine asked, rising from her seat, seemingly oblivious to the mild look of betrayal Ada sent her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why, yes,” the Colonel said, smacking his lips and perking up noticeably, “that is most gracious of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She moved gracefully across the room to a sideboard where a tray of tea and scones lay. With her back now safely turned, Clementine raised her hand as if she were delicately covering a cough and snorted into her hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Meanwhile, Ada invited Colonel Billingswig to take a seat in the chair furthest from her own. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do tell me,” Ada began, having settled herself back on her sofa a good few feet away, “what is it like commanding a regiment?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s it like corralling an elephant, did you say?” The Colonel exclaimed, his hand cupped around his ear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, commanding a <em>regiment!</em>” She said, raising her voice several decibels. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On the other side of the room, Clementine poured a generous splash of whiskey into two of the three teacups, paused to reconsider, and then added more for good measure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, it’s a dirty business, mostly. Not a decent meal to be had. And the eggs! Lord knows, not a decent egg to be had. Breakfast is never complete without an egg, you know. Good for the liver! I have one with every meal, in fact.” The Colonel replied.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ada was saved from replying by Clementine’s hasty return, tea set in hand. “Why yes, that would be thoroughly disagreeable,” she said, concealing her smile as she set the tray down and set about handing out the cups and saucers. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmm,” the colonel said, now extremely preoccupied with the scones. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do tell us more about the Eggs.” Entreated Clementine, as she sat back down beside Ada, who pinched her arm. Clementine merely smiled demurely, but it did not fully mask the sly look in her eye. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Colonel Billingswig launched back into an impassioned speech about runny versus hard boiled eggs (and the merits of raw eggs taken medicinally!) – a conversation he directed mostly at the mountain of scones he was buttering intently – Ada picked up her teacup, took a sip and sighed in obvious relief as the whiskey hit her tongue. She leaned towards Clementine and whispered “I’d wager the only action he’s seen in recent years is at the end of his knife and fork.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine choked on a laugh and took a hearty swig of tea. She frowned instantly and peered down into her cup. Ada sent her a questioning glance as Clementine suddenly gasped and lifted a hand to her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What! What is it?” Ada hissed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The tea! It appears I’ve given myself the wrong cup. That is to say… Colonel Billingswig has received the tea heavily spiked with whisky, which I intended for myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both women turned in time to see the Colonel wash down his fifth scone with the complete contents of said cup of tea. He blinked, hiccupped slightly, and then resumed his ode to eggs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, my.” Ada remarked, trying to stifle a giggle as Colonel Billingswig started to turn an interesting shade of purple and his eyes acquired a slightly glazed look. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Up on the ceiling, Fly finished reading the two pages of the open book lying forgotten on Ada’s lap and harrumphed, wanting to know what the men in the boat had done after the dog dropped half a rat into their already dubious stew. It sounded rather delicious. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A very slight disturbance in the air behind him prompted Fly to twitch around and stare towards the corner of the ceiling where the gloom deepened to an impenetrable darkness. Rubbing his forelegs nervously over his face, Fly plucked up his courage and approached cautiously. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ello, anyone there?” He called.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello,” a voice returned, “would you be so kind as to help me? I seem to have gotten myself stuck, and I’ve been waiting for a juicy- er, gallant fly such as yourself to lend me a hand.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly thought on this a bit, and came to the conclusion that they sounded largely trustworthy. “Alright,” he said, “where are you exactly?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, excellent! Just a teensy bit further forwards, don’t mind the, er, slight stickiness. I’m really rather terrible at tidying up after myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No problem, I can see why you got yourself stuck! How sticky it is indeed! And… oh <em>no</em>, oh wait a moment!” Fly skittered backwards away from what he now saw were the beginnings of a carefully constructed web, just as the looming bulk of a black spider appeared precisely on the spot he’d just vacated.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I almost fell for it!” Fly exclaimed, buzzing angrily at himself, now safely out of reach of the spider’s long legs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, you almost fell for it,” Spider repeated, far more dejectedly. Now Fly was staring at the spider with all three of his eyes, he noticed it was missing a few of its legs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s rude to stare,” Spider sniffed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I beg your pardon, I forgot myself!” Fly apologised, and then shook himself. “Wait, I’m not sorry — you just tried to eat me!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spider gave a small shrug, “What else should I have done?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You might have asked first,” Fly said, “good manners can get you far in life.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmmm. Suppose I really do need help untangling myself?” Spider suggested hopefully, blinking all eight eyes in an attempt at innocence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Er, I haven’t gotten any <em>more</em> stupid in the last minute.” Fly reminded them. His mother <em>had</em> mentioned never to talk to strangers, although considering he had only been born a few days ago, he was sure he still had a lot more to learn about these sorts of things.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Down below, Clementine was trying to coax the Colonel into talking about a topic other than overcooked breakfast foods.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hear you have a rather handsome country estate, Sir.” She said encouragingly and tipped Ada a wink, knowing full well that the Colonel would not notice in his befuddled state. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yes,” the Colonel exclaimed loudly, “a great, good place, it is! Lots of rooms and lots of good hunting, I myself like a good quail now and again…” he trailed away, finishing it off with another hiccup. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir, would you like me to get you a glass of water, or something else to eat—?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Colonel Billingswig suddenly cut in with an impassioned, “Oh, the <em>horrors</em> of inept sausage making! Don’t get me started on kippers!” But that, apparently, was all he needed to get going.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both women groaned inwardly as the Colonel started in on cured meats. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“On the bright side, you might manage to derail any amorous advances with mentions of food,” Clementine muttered helpfully under her breath. Ada bit her lip and replied, “He might not even try with me at all; he certainly seems to like his <em>sausage</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both stifled snorts of laughter into their teacups.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bratwurst!” Billingswig suddenly exclaimed, “Now there is a fine sausage if ever there was one!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So enthused was he that he swept his arms out in a grand gesture, managing to dislodge a nearby candle from its holder right onto one of the window drapes. The curtain quickly went up in flames. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Heavens above!” Clementine exclaimed as Billingswig proceeded to yell incoherently and dive under the nearest side table, which was not quite up to the task given his considerable size. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The shrieking from below caught the attention of Fly and Spider, who had been engaged in a debate on ethical food sourcing and what a strange phenomenon it was being able to converse with your food. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps you are right.” Spider conceded, grudgingly. “Talking rather defeats the purpose of a quick, clean death. Well in my case, it is the only method I have left to lure in prey. However, I suppose it is quite unethical, when you put it that way—” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good gracious!” Fly exclaimed, quite forgetting his previous concerns as he skittered closer to Spider’s web as flames licked at the ceiling near them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Not the drapes, not the drapes!</em>” Ada was shrieking, and then, quite beside herself, rushed closer to the fire in order to start dragging a heavy antique table out of harm’s way. “<em>Over 100 years old! There is no conceivable way I’m sacrificing an antique for the sake of a good marriage prospect!</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Spider said, quite calmly despite the… inflamed situation, “while watching these monkeys cause their own destruction <em>is</em> quite entertaining, I can’t say I desire to die of smoke inhalation. Care to join me in a strategic retreat?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly considered him with three narrowed eyes for a moment. “How do I know you won’t eat me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s just say that, for now, I value you for your conversation more than your prospects as dinner.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm… that’s good enough for me, I guess.” Fly said readily, who was starting to feel rather warm. He climbed gingerly onto Spider’s back. Spider slowly picked his way towards the back of his huge web, where the air was much fresher, careful not to snag Fly on any of the sticky strands. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps now would be a good time to tell you that I’m mostly vegetarian.” Spider said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>what</em>?” Fly exclaimed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Below the bickering arachnid and insect, Clementine strode unafraid through the smoke. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ada! <em>Honestly</em>,” she said with a rather put upon air, her hands wrapped in Colonel Billingswig’s jacket, which he had fortuitously left draped over the back of his chair. She proceeded to yank the curtains from the runner into a heap on the floor, and poured an entire pitcher of water over them. A few seconds later, all that remained of the fire was a few pitiful coughs of smoke and a rather sorry looking pile of singed damask. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, dear.” Ada coughed, still clutching the end table. Clementine offered her a hand and pulled her up onto shaky legs. They both turned to where Colonel Billingswig cowered on the floor gibbering to himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Colonel, perhaps it is time you got yourself home.” Ada said, mustering as much decorum as she was able.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your house tried to set me on fire!” He wailed, glancing about himself wildly. Clementine sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps,” Clementine said, bending down so the colonel wouldn’t miss a word, “it’s best you leave now before it tries again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Colonel Billingswig squeaked, picked himself up and rushed out the door with far more speed than either lady might have expected, almost mowing down the butler, Mr. Worthington, who had appeared in the doorway. The butler took in the smoking room with the faintly disapproving look he always wore. “I’ll send a maid to clean up later.” He said, sounding exceedingly bored, as if the threat of a fire was the least of his concerns. He turned and disappeared back down the hallway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Ada said, gathering up Colonel Billingswig’s singed jacket and throwing it unceremoniously out the window, “I think that rules out one, at least.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine begun to laugh, helpless to stop herself and Ada soon joined her, their eyes alight with shared delight. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, I was thinking,” Ada said, pulling Clementine down to sit beside her on the slightly soot-stained settee.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Always a dangerous pastime for a respectable woman,” Clementine grinned. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ha ha. No, I was thinking, what if we <em>did</em> just marry each other.” Ada said in a rush. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine blinked. “I don’t think we have the correct, er, <em>parts</em> to pull that off.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But what if we <em>appeared</em> to? Think about it! What if I dressed as a man? I could pretend to be my cousin James and you could take me to meet your parents — then off we go to live somewhere remote to their way of thinking, and live out the rest of our days together at one of my family’s country estates! Or something along those lines – you can work it out, dear – between the two of us, you always have been the brains. I’m sure you can come up with a plan that would work.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm.” Clementine said thoughtfully. “You know, with the right stuffing here, the right binding there… we might just be able to pull it off.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ada grinned at her, then got up suddenly, pulling Clementine with her. Sinking to one knee before her, Ada sent her a wink that in no way hid her genuine nervousness. “Miss Clementine Baudelaire, do you accept this most humble proposition of marriage from a cad such as myself, a blaggard who, no doubt, is blessed by roguish good looks and a disgustingly large sum of money?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine gripped Ada’s hand, pulling her up into her arms and sweeping her off her feet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, my darling, of <em>course</em>. It is always yes with you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">—</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b> <em>Somewhere in the ceiling corner of a parlour of a grand estate in the countryside…</em> </b> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I tell you, no one ever checks the ends of their shoes for possible stowaways.” Spider said, busily weaving a new web. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“All right, but next time I’m picking our travelling accommodation.” Fly replied, buzzing around and helping Spider balance on his limited legs when needed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Next</em> time? How do you know I won't have eaten you by then?” Spider said, with a clack of his pincers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly snorted. “Who else would you have to gossip with, then?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Spider sniffed haughtily. “I suppose. Flies aren’t to my taste anyway, too crunchy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fly rolled all three eyes, and then settled in beside Spider, ready to observe the latest antics the humans might get up to below. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Suppose I boiled you in a stew first,” Spider said thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oi!” Fly exclaimed, before beginning to laugh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Below them Ada poked her head into the room. “Darling, are you coming? These roses won’t prune themselves.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Clementine dropped her book, smiled, and followed her out into the sun dappled garden.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">—</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">Thus, on a small country estate tucked away in the quiet rolling hills of Devon, the two odd couples lived out their days together peacefully. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Finis</b> </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
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